My name is Emily Carter. I’m 49 years old, and I never imagined that accepting $50,000 from a wealthy elderly man would become the most terrifying night of my life.
It began when Richard Harrison, a 78-year-old millionaire I had never met, offered me an extraordinary amount of money to spend one night in his mansion.
There were three conditions.
I had to wear a pink blouse, a short black skirt, and red high heels.
I had to arrive at exactly eight o’clock.
And whatever happened, I wasn’t allowed to leave before midnight.
I wanted to refuse, but my mother was seriously ill, and I desperately needed money for her treatment.
So I agreed.
When Richard opened the door, his expression frightened me.
He stared at my clothes, then at my red shoes.
“My God,” he whispered. “You look exactly like her.”
“Like who?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
